


i'm an animal, you're an animal too

by storytellingape



Category: Crash Pad (2017), Logan Lucky (2017)
Genre: Alpha Clyde, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Bonding, M/M, Mating, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Stensland, Sex under the influence of heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 02:38:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13649691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellingape/pseuds/storytellingape
Summary: Stensland goes into heat.





	i'm an animal, you're an animal too

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't know. The premise is housed in an AU I was going to write minus the uh, a/b/o: where Stensland IS both Clyde's tenant and working at Duck Tape. This fic has no redeeming value whatsoever. It's PORN. Like DOCTOR ROCKHARD PORN. Also, writing a/b/o is hard and IDK what I'm doing. 
> 
> Title is from Neko Case's Animal.

Stensland’s heat hits sooner than expected. He’s at the bar when it sets in, a slow inexorable burn that starts up his spine that is, at least at first, easy to ignore. He hovers on uncomfortably sweaty all day, chalks it up the broken air conditioning, but by late afternoon is panting and antsy to rub a hand down his trousers. 

He excuses himself to the back room where they keep all the liquor, and whereMellie makes him lie down for an hour on the little cot that smells a bit like a musty closet.

It’s a wonder that he makes it through the day at all; when he gets home from his shift, glassy eyed and exhausted, runnels of slick have dried down the insides of his thighs. 

Stensland showers. An embarrassing wave of arousal hits him as he runs soap across his body. His nipples are as stiff as his prick and when he feels between his legs, he’s wet where he shouldn’t be, the inside of his body hot and giving. He has a long wank in the shower: propping his knees on either side of the tub and aiming the detachable showerhead directly over the sweet ache of his hole. 

He comes, shuddering, pumping his cock, but his orgasm leaves him feeling empty and feverish, more bereft than ever before. He staggers out of the shower and into his room, which is really just Clyde's old guest room Stensland is subletting for the time being. He collapses facefirst on top of the covers, his body drying off as he slips into fitful slumber. 

Stensland wakes to the sounds of Clyde's car in the driveway and gradually blinks his eyes open. The awful lime green wallpaper of his room narrows into focus. He lets out a puppyish whine as Clyde's footsteps swim closer. Stensland can picture him with an armful of shopping, bumping the front door shut behind him and dropping his keys on the counter. Unconsciously, he starts rubbing himself on the covers, dragging his cock across the soft cotton until it’s nice and stiff again, spitting out precome. He bends his knees, lifting his arse off the bed, fucking himself with two fingers until his wrist cramps up and slick dribbles down his hand. 

There’s a thud that erupts from the kitchen, followed closely by Clyde cursing loudly. Stensland moans, hearing his voice, speeding up the rhythm of both hands, muffling his whimpers in the bedding. 

Clyde is an alpha, stronger and bigger and more experienced and he’s got a big cock he can slot right into Stensland’s hole to make him feel good, a cock full of warm thick come. Stensland wants Clyde to mate him, to fuck him till the clenching ache in his body is replaced with the burning stretch of his dripping cock. Stensland doesn’t last long, coming as soon as Clyde calls him across the hall to help with dinner. Stensland sags on his front, breathing in large gulps, hand slumping to his side as he rolls himself shakily onto his back. There’s a wet spot on the bed, a mess of come and slick. _Jesus._

Stensland closes his eyes, shame flushing his face, and turns the covers over before dressing quickly and joining Clyde in the kitchen. 

* 

Stensland wonders if Clyde can smell it; he’s fine for the most part, able to keep his arousal at bay despite Clyde's proximity. 

Clyde curls a hand absently across the small of Stensland’s back as Stensland cuts up vegetables to go with the steak Clyde bought from the supermarket. It’s rudimentary stuff, and Stensland can do it with his eyes closed but Clyde peers over his shoulder as he takes pulls of his beer, choosing to oversee Stensland’s work and breathe down his neck. He smells nice tonight; the tang of his cologne makes Stensland’s knees go weak. Then Clyde leaves to put the rice on the stove to boil. 

Stensland tries hard not to follow him with his eyes. He’s lucky he’s able to keep his hands from shaking noticeably. He’s always been attracted to Clyde in some form or another, his tiny crush unhelpfully encouraged by Clyde's obvious fondness and affection for him. Stensland had been kicked out of his apartment after failing to pay the rent for the third consecutive month, practically homeless, before coming to live with him, and then Clyde had needed an extra pair of hands at the bar and the rest was history. That had been months ago, when Stensland still remembered to take his suppressants. He’d been riding the high of his good luck that he’d missed accounting for this last cycle, too comfortable in this new routine he’d found himself thrust into, under the delusion that because he was living with Clyde, taking up the spare room, Clyde was Stensland’s alpha, and by extension protected. 

Stensland sleeps in the guest room that used to house Clyde's fishing equipment, with the slanted ceiling and the pervasive smell of damp that he’d eventually stopped noticing. He works as Clyde's assistant, whatever that may entail on a given day, be it lugging boxes of this and that or helping him man the bar. Overall, it’s an all right set up: he’s well fed and taken care of, though occasionally he gets into verbal tussles with Clyde, upsetting himself when Clyde so much as looks at a customer longer than necessary. He tries to squash that weird, possessive part of himself; Morgan didn’t like it. Neither did any other alpha he’d tried to get with in the past. He tends to get territorial, clingy. And Clyde — it doesn’t help that he’s nice to Stensland, always helping him out of trouble and doting on him like a real mate. He’s an idiot. They both are.

“You all right?” Clyde asks once they’re seated, the cutlery laid out properly on the table. 

Stensland shrugs noncommittally, tossing his food around in his plate. He doesn’t have much of an appetite. He wants to tell Clyde he’s in heat, well almost in heat, but a part of him is afraid Clyde would take liberties. He’s an alpha and while Stensland wants nothing more than for Clyde to bend him over the table and rut into him, he’s still lucid enough to worry about The After. He doesn’t want Clyde to find a reason to finally kick him out; he won’t give in to his baser instincts. 

“You look sick,” Clyde points out, the lines in his forehead deepening. He runs his knuckles across Stensland’s cheek and Stensland shudders, moaning helplessly at his touch, his eyes slipping closed. 

“You’re in heat,” Clyde says, and when he blinks, his eyes are dark; then he blinks again and the sharp look disappears. 

Clyde's face is largely impassive and his hand drops from Stensland’s face to his side like he’s been burnt. “I could smell it all the way from the car but I wasn’t sure. How long?” 

Stensland shakes his head. “I don’t know. Since this morning?” He covers his face with his hands, his breaths accelerated by his anxiety. “I’m sorry,” he starts to say, fighting the knee jerk reaction to cry. He feels helpless. “I’m sorry,” he moans. 

“Hey, look at me,” Clyde whispers. “Stensland, look.” 

Clyde tips up Stensland’s chin gently, the pad of his thumb sweeping up Stensland’s bottom lip until it gives and softens. Stensland resists the urge to bite down on his finger and turns his gaze to the side so he doesn’t have to meet Clyde's eyes. 

“It isn’t your fault, Stensland. This is perfectly normal,” Clyde says. “Don’t cry, now..” 

The thing Clyde doesn’t understand though is that Stensland knows precisely what he wants: it’s right in front of him, looking at him with pity. He shudders when another wave of arousal hits, stronger now that Clyde is touching him, his rough palm cradling Stensland’s shoulder. 

“I like it when you touch me,” Stensland says, unable to stop himself. He’s starting to pant as he tips forward, closer and closer. “I want you to – ” And then he lurches, gravity aiding him, grabbing Clyde by the back of the neck, seizing him for a wet kiss. It lasts all of three seconds before Clyde is grunting and pulling away, gripping Stensland by the shoulders to keep him at arm’s length. His self-control is astounding; Stensland’s heard stories of alphas taking unmated omegas against their will but Clyde seems to possess the will of a saint. 

“You’re not in the right mind right now,” Clyde tells him. “You have to calm down, Stensland.” Shame twists up Stensland’s gut, hot, achy and ugly. He wriggles out of Clyde's grip and gives him a forceful shove. Clyde doesn’t even put up protest when Stensland bounds out the front door. He cuts through the property, loping through the trees, stopping for nothing, senses heightened and attuned to his surroundings. 

Outside, the woods have darkened with the blue blackness of early evening. Stensland keeps running, stopping only once his side starts cramping up viciously, about half an hour later. He collapses on the ground, rolling onto his back and shuddering, taking gulpfuls of fortifying breath. He flings an arm over his face, willing his heartbeat to settle as his head starts to pound with a dull ache. The dew from the grass makes the hair on his body stand on end, and he shudders again before bursting into nervous laughter. He feels hysterical, alone in the woods like a crazy person, covered in a sheen of cold sweat; his heat is manifesting itself again, his hole starting to clench and leak. He whimpers at the slow drag of his arse over the grass, eyes snapping open at the first noise he hears. He sits up at the steady thump thump of boots hitting the earth. It’s Clyde. 

Stensland can scent him, isolate his smell and movement. He moans, his heart pounding, his cock twitching at the thought of his alpha come to find and breed him. Clyde steps out of the darkness, his shape huge and menacing in the shadows and Stensland leaks harder, spreading his thighs, baring his neck in submission. He feels soft and vulnerable, wetter than he can ever remember being. 

Clyde growls and Stensland bites his lip, scrambling onto all fours to present himself, a bitch in heat, in supplication. His fingers and toes dig into the dirt and he can feel his hole throb and clench. He whimpers, bending his knees further. He’s made his alpha mad, and now is the time to earn his forgiveness. He hadn’t meant to run; he’d just been embarrassed, shamed. 

“Stensland,” he hears Clyde say, voice scraping his throat. “Stensland, get up.” 

Stensland raises himself up on his elbows shakily, blinking back the sweat from his eyes. He’s so weak with arousal, so needy he can hardly stand it. He wants Clyde's cock, in his mouth, in his arse; he wants Clyde's hands everywhere on his body. Stensland rolls into a kneeling position, coming face to face with Clyde's clothed cock. He drags his gaze up to study Clyde, his eyes drawn to the taper of his waist. His torso has that triangular shape that makes his shoulders seem broader in comparison, the lines of his body sleek with taut muscle. He’s so big he dwarfs Stensland completely; the hair on his arms and legs is thicker, coarser, and shades darker than the hair on his head. Stensland purrs deep in his throat, whining when Clyde grips his hair, stopping him before he could press his face forward into his lap.

“You’re not thinking straight, Stensland,” he grunts. “Stop this. Now.” 

“I- I can’t,” Stensland whimpers, tongue lolling out. “I just want – Clyde, please. Touch me.” He lets out a pitiful sob as Clyde yanks him up to his full height, cupping his chin in a gentle palm. “Stensland,” he sighs, voice soft. “You need to focus.” 

“I can’t,” Stensland says in a panicky breath. It’s the truth. All he can think of is the need to mate, the emptiness of his body. “I need you to touch me. Just – it aches so much, Clyde. I’m so wet.” 

Clyde grunts, his grip tightening. “Don’t say those things in front of me,” he hisses, “You don’t know what I’m capable of, Stensland.” 

“I’m not afraid of you.” At this, he rubs his cheek across Clyde's palm, closing his eyes. 

Stensland gasps when he’s suddenly pinned to a tree behind him, Clyde's mouth a searing brand against his neck. 

But Clyde doesn’t bite down with his teeth, doesn’t break skin as his knee kicks Stensland’s legs apart. And god, Stensland’s even wetter now, he’s sure Clyde can smell it. He leaks, dripping slick down his thighs. Clyde reaches down between Stensland’s balls and thrusts two fingers into his clenching hole, no prep or warning whatsoever, fucking him deep where he needs it until Stensland spasms and whines. His thighs tremble from the strain of keeping himself spread open, Clyde's free hand pressed under his knee to keep it angled back. He rubs his cock shamelessly against Clyde's hip, shaking as Clyde circles his fingers across his rim. He feels flushed from head to toe, his scalp prickling, his skin tingling from where Clyde's teeth clamp down on his neck. 

“You can come now darlin’,” Clyde grunts, nosing the back of his ear, inhaling his scent. He’s called Stensland darling only once before, when Stensland had made himself sick from drinking too much and Clyde rubbed his back while he vomited in the street. Clyde keeps pumping his fingers rhythmically, and with a twist of his hand that buries his fingers deep, Stensland is coming with a loud moan, collapsing against Clyde's chest as he blacks out. 

*

He comes to in the tub, the water rising up to his knees. The past half hour comes to him in brief snippets: Clyde carrying him in his arms like a newborn pup, and then dropping him unceremoniously on the sofa, and then later hefting him into a sitting position in the tub, his fingers splayed over the small of Stensland’s back. 

Stensland mumbles his thanks as Clyde crouches down to lift him into his arms. He turns the water off and sits Stensland down on the toilet lid where he swaddles him in a thick towel, drying his hair until it peaks in erratic tufts. 

“Come on,” he says, heaving Stensland up to his feet. Stensland stumbles but makes it to his bed. He watches sleepily as Clyde kneels in front of him and wipes the pads of his feet dry, running the end of a warm towel up the inside of his legs before daubing under his arms where the hair is embarrassingly sparse. 

Clyde dresses him like a little doll, like a child, with careful gentle hands, his expression shuttered and unreadable as he tucks Stensland into bed and pulls the comforter up to his chin. 

“Sleep,” he says softly. “You’ll need it.” Stensland can only nod, drifting off already. 

* 

He wakes, stiff and wet, sweating through his clothes. The need to mate is strong, and he’s out of bed before he can really think about it, unbuttoning his pyjamas and stepping out of his underwear. He staggers his way into Clyde's bedroom, slinking through the half-open door and climbing up the bed. 

The movement doesn’t stir Clyde at all — he’s deeply asleep and slumped flat on his back. His hand is wedged absently inside the waist of his boxers, curled over his hip. 

Stensland keeps himself silent as best he can, nudging Clyde's hand out of the way and tugging his boxers down below the hang of his balls. He’s huge, even when soft, and Stensland’s prick drips precome at the thought of Clyde's cock filling him. He moans and presses a kiss to Clyde's balls, sucking them into his mouth as he pumps the thick shaft. He works him up to half-mast before closing his mouth around the flushed head, whining hungrily at the taste of salt and wetness. He feels Clyde growing in his palm, his cock filling up with blood, canting upwards, the head rubbing his tongue and the roof of his mouth. 

Stensland pants through his nose as Clyde's hips jerk forward without warning, choking on his next swallow but not letting up even when Clyde starts to groan awake above him. 

If anything, the movement spurs Stensland on, and he starts sucking harder, rolling the taste of Clyde's precome in his mouth. When he pulls off with a noisy pop it’s because Clyde has cupped a hand over his neck and is dragging him up to his chest. Stensland fits himself against him, straddling a muscled thigh but before he could lean down to kiss him, Clyde is rolling him onto his back and pinning his wrists above his head. 

Stensland shudders, feeling it to the tips of his toes as Clyde presses his hips forward and lets his cock rub the divot of Stensland’s hip. 

Stensland whines again and pumps his hips desperately but Clyde presses his hand flat above Stensland’s navel, keeping him at bay. His nipples stiffen sharply “Please—” he gasps. “I need you to touch me – just once. Your cock, Clyde, I need it –” 

“You have to calm down,” Clyde says, but even in the dark Stensland can see his teeth gritted, his face scrunched up in a snarl. His voice roughened to a scrape – he must smell how wet Stensland is, scent how copiously he’s leaking. “I’ll hurt you, Stensland. I’m much bigger. Calm down.” 

“Mate me,” Stensland begs. “Mate me, please. Put your cock in me!” He spits the last statement out, shaking from utter need, but Clyde's grip on his wrist barely loosens. He wants Clyde to lose control, wants his alpha to see just how badly he needs to be filled. The ache is all consuming; everywhere they’re touching – Clyde fingers around his bony wrists, his hand high up on Stensland’s ribs, his sturdy knees straddling Stensland’s thighs – burns a fever deep into his bones, making him shake. 

“You want me to mate you?” Clyde huffs. “You sure about that? You want me to breed you and fill you up?” 

Stensland nods frantically, dizzy already from the promise. He lifts his knees up in invitation, squirming as Clyde's cockhead brushes his sopping arsehole. 

Clyde pushes Stensland’s leg up to keep his thighs open for him, rubbing his cock up the crease of Stensland’s arse, teasing him till he keens. “I could smell you even in the woods, darlin’,” Clyde says, voice low and gravelly. “How desperate you were for my cock. You want it in you? Are you gonna beg prettily for my cock?” 

“Clyde,” Stensland whimpers. “Yes, mate me, mate me, stick your cock in me, I want your knot.” 

Clyde sighs. “Darlin, look at how wet you are. Look at that greedy little hole.” He dips two fingers into the tight space below Stensland’s balls and Stensland shudders, his hips spasming, a moan rising unbidden from his lips as Clyde curls his fingers deep. 

Stensland’s hole gives under the insistent press of Clyde's cock, opening up for him, wet and tender. He feels easy, so blown open, spreading himself for his alpha. Stensland lurches up as Clyde's hips begin to move in tiny increments, starting with a low easy grind that seats his cock all the way inside. 

They both groan as Clyde bottoms out, Clyde relinquishing his grip on Stensland’s wrists to hold him up under the knees. 

“ _There_ ,” Stensland pants, “Right there, fuck me.” 

“Yeah? You like that cock?” Clyde rolls his hips, pulling out and then thrusting back in like he’s stirring Stensland up. 

The head of his cock nudges Stensland’s hole teasingly, thick and fat, pushing in. Stensland grabs the headboard above him as Clyde fucks into him in slow agonizing thrusts. He can hear the wet slide of their bodies, the loud squelching noise as Clyde's balls slap against his arse with each deep thrust. He whimpers, fingers slipping from the pine board, bucking and arching to meet Clyde's rolling thrusts. 

“Lord, you’re so wet, so tight for me,” Clyde growls. “Gonna fill you up with come, baby, breed you till you’re wet and full. You want that? You want my knot?” 

Stensland is barely able to breathe, much less reply, feeling impaled up to his throat. Clyde's eyes are heavy-lidded, that cock so big inside him it’s all Stensland can think about. Stensland feels his own prick twitching, his gaze slipping to where Clyde's cock is buried deeply inside him, and the wiry thatch of dark hair just above the jut of his cock. Stensland squeezes his own cock, once, twice, and comes with a weak little moan, clenching hard around Clyde's cock before sagging back onto his elbows, boneless and weak. 

Clyde pulls out of him with a grunt before tugging him onto his hands and knees on the bed, Stensland’s arse lifted in the air, his nipples rubbing deliciously against the cotton of the bedding. Stensland whines both from the friction and the loss of Clyde's cock, but doesn’t have to wait long until Clyde is spreading him with his thumbs. 

Clyde growls when Stensland starts to squirm, a low guttural noise that makes the hair on Stensland’s arms stand on end. His cock twitches at the sound, filling up once more as Clyde licks into him ravenously, lapping up his slick, cleaning him up with a rough and devilish tongue until he’s so weak-kneed Clyde has to wind an arm around his waist to keep him upright. Stensland sobs in desperation, hole flinching and sensitive, what little air he manages to breathe through his cries punched out by the wet stab of Clyde's tongue. 

Clyde rubs his thumb over the throbbing clench of Stensland’s hole, until it gives and his finger sinks down to the first knuckle. Stensland arches his back, fucking himself on it, never mind the greedy picture he makes: a pathetic little omega crying for alpha cock. He’s so slutty for it, for Clyde's knot, moving his hips back and making all these needy noises, his cock a sticky dribbling mess across his stomach. 

“Mate me,” he pleads. “Mate me – mate me – make it hurt—” 

Clyde groans, pulling his finger back, tracing Stensland’s rim lightly with his fingernail. Stensland shudders as Clyde makes a game of it, letting Stensland wriggle around and pant and beg to be knotted, before giving his hole a wide lick, darting his tongue all the way to Stensland’s balls till they’re taut, heavy with the need to come. 

“Such a good boy,” he chuckles, nipping Stensland on the thigh, grazing his teeth up Stensland’s spine. He fingers Stensland until Stensland comes again, crying weakly, cock and hole twitching and oversensitive as Clyde works him further open through his orgasm. He barely registers it when Clyde squeezes him on the flank, nudging him back to position, hauling him up by the hips. 

Stensland lifts his arse immediately, presenting his hole for fucking, shuddering when Clyde lines up his cock and pushes in. He doesn’t fight the blunt pressure of Clyde's cock and lets himself be taken. It’s the way of things, the way of nature; people like him – omegas – are to be bred by alphas, filled up with seed. 

Clyde mounts him in one swift thrust, sinking his cock into him, his hole so swollen and fucked Stensland imagines it gaping for days from the stretch. 

Clyde grunts, angling his hips so Stensland could feel every inch of him. He shoves Stensland’s thighs further apart and yanks him up by the hip, pressing his chest to Stensland’s back, leaning over his neck. He nips at whatever skin he could reach, biting and marking Stensland’s shoulder until the skin turns a ruddy pink, closing his hand around Stensland’s neck tight enough to serve as a warning. 

When Stensland swallows, he feels the calluses in Clyde's good handscratch his throat. “This is what you wanted, Darlin’? To be bred by an alpha?” 

“Yes,” Stensland hisses. “Wanna be filled up, want your knot—” 

“Gonna make you mine,” Clyde growls into his ear. “Knock you up with my knot. Keep you tied to my bed, open and ready for me to fuck whenever I want to. Feel that big cock, darlin’? It’s full of come for you. Make sure you swallow it all up.” Stensland closes his eyes at the promise, nodding in obedience as he shivers. If they were bonded, Clyde would impregnate him for sure, would provide for him and protect him from alphas who may want to mount and breed him. The thought of it makes his blood run hot, and he pumps his hips faster to ride his swollen hole over Clyde's cock, drooling at the slow burning stretch. 

Clyde grunts with every thrust, rough and erratic, snaking a hand around Stensland’s cock to grip it at the base. He rubs his thumb over the leaking slit which makes Stensland pulse precome, balls drawn up against his body, his muscles tensing as he hovers on the brink of orgasm. 

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna come,” he whines in a small voice, head lolling and tipping back against Clyde's shoulder. 

Clyde keeps his rolling thrusts to a steady rhythm, capturing Stensland’s mouth in a hungry kiss as he squeezes Stensland’s balls. “It’s all right, darlin’,” he grunts, “I’ve got you. You can come.” 

Stensland comes with a strangled cry as Clyde thrusts once, twice, three times and pumps his cock to the pace of his fucking. 

Stensland slumps forward in exhaustion, his cock leaking feebly, smearing come all over the sheets as he wipes his eyes on the heels of his hands. Clyde pulls out a second later, and slick and precome spill out of Stensland’s spread arsehole, a warm sticky mess that pools down his thighs. He moans as Clyde laps at him, cleaning him up with his tongue, breathing in his musky freshly-fucked smell. He growls when Stensland whimpers at the first slide of tongue, dragging Stensland’s hips back when he shies away. 

“You’ll stay put now,” he grunts. “Or I’ll put you over my knee and spank you.” 

“No –” Stensland gasps. “I can’t – Clyde, I – it’s too much—” 

“I’m going to knot you,” Clyde says evenly, before spreading Stensland with his tongue. “And then we can talk about stopping. You’re sopping wet right here, Stensland. Look at you. So hungry for cock.” He roots around Stensland’s hole with two fingers, then three, rubbing around the gape. “If I let you go unmated, you’ll be torn apart by other alphas. Do you want that?” His free hand digs painfully into the tender back of Stensland’s thigh. “They’ll smell you, how wet and ready you are, and they’ll breed you until you’re completely filled up with come.” 

“No,” Stensland whimpers, shaking his head. “I want – I just want to be yours.” “Good,” Clyde coos. “Good. You’re mine You won’t let anyone else touch you like this. I’ll kill them with my bare hands if anyone tries to take you away from me.” Stensland nods, trembling as Clyde runs his thumb over his hole. 

“I’m yours,” he repeats tearfully. “Only yours.” Clyde hasn’t come yet so Stensland lets Clyde pull him into his lap and sit him on his cock, aligning his cockhead to Stensland’s flushed hole. 

Stensland can’t come anymore, he’s so fucked out, but a few thrusts in and he’s clenching and squirming around Clyde's cock. He presses his palms flat on Clyde's chest for leverage as he widens his stance to feel Clyde from every angle. Stensland throbs with each thrust, keening, riding him rough and fast, the muscles in his thighs straining from the effort. Clyde runs his hands down the back of his legs and kneads his arse, spreading him further, full of pretty praises. 

“You look so good, riding my cock,” Clyde groans. “You want my knot, darlin’? You like that riding that big cock?” 

“Yes,” Stensland hisses but it comes out as a feeble gasp, cut short as he arches his back at a particularly sharp stab of pleasure. “Yes, I want your knot, Clyde. It’s so good – ah, ah, fill me up, fill me up please, mate me, yes, nnnh, God—” 

Clyde speeds up his thrusts, pounding into him with all he has, his hands tightly gripping Stensland’s arsecheeks as he fucks up into him. Every thrust leaves Stensland panting and glassy-eyed, babbling incoherently as he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet to sink himself down on Clyde's cock. He feels Clyde twitch inside him – so close, almost there – and purrs deep in his throat the second the hot rubbing friction of his fucking changes into the silky rush of come. 

“Ah, yeah,” Clyde growls, canting up his hips. “Darlin’, yeah, fuck –” Clyde grinds his orgasm into Stensland’s arse and Stensland whimpers, bouncing up and down his lap, needing it to fill him up. When he comes, it’s sharp it’s almost painful, his cock dripping into Clyde's chest in weak little spurts as he finishes off with a few more strokes. He’s still coming when he feels the broad and sudden pressure of Clyde's knot in his hole, fat and puffy, and every bit as bizarre as Stensland expected. He doesn’t move a muscle, panic flooding him as Clyde groans underneath him, his large hands settling on Stensland’s hips. 

“Stop wriggling or you’ll hurt yourself,” he grunts, adjusting the angle so Stensland can bend his knees. “Stay still.” He flicks Stensland on the nose when Stensland squirms, Stensland’s breath hitching as Clyde's knot stretches him wider than he’d like. He whimpers in discomfort, whining like a pup. 

“I told you to stay still now,” Clyde admonishes him, slowly easing Stensland down so Stensland can lay his head comfortably on the curve of his shoulder. He runs his hand through Stensland’s hair, making Stensland purr happily and inch even closer. 

“Is it always like that?” he whispers. 

“Is what always like that?” Clyde asks, his hand resting on the small of Stensland’s back. 

“Getting knotted,” Stensland says. 

It makes him feel shy to say it now, anxious almost, now that he’s lucid and not addled by arousal. Clyde huffs out a laugh, nipping him softly on the earlobe and Stensland flushes to the roots of his air as Clyde grooms him, carding his fingers through his hair and licking his cheek. Stensland can see the contrast between them now that they’re pressed so close: Clyde's tanned forearms against the pale skin of Stensland’s body, his overwhelming bulk engulfing the leaner lines of Stensland’s arms and legs. 

“Each time is different,” Clyde says. “I guess.” He lifts his head. “Do you regret it? We’ll be bonded now; you’ll be my mate.” 

Stensland drowsily traces the slope of muscle down Clyde's arm before pillowing his head on Clyde's chest, flexing his thighs as he works himself around Clyde's knot. “No,” he murmurs, biting his lip at the twinge of discomfort that slowly turns itself into pleasure. “Not at all.”


End file.
